


Lots of Love

by OfTheDunedain



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: F/M, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, M/M, Misunderstandings, Octome 2020, Pre-Relationship, Simeon also doesn't know cool lingo, Simeon doesn't know how to type, Texting, Thank goodness Luke helps!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:54:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27138295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfTheDunedain/pseuds/OfTheDunedain
Summary: It had been close to ten minutes you had been staring now, eyes raking over the last text Simeon had sent repeatedly. In fact, the only break you had given those three words was when you scrolled up to reread what you had sent; and, each time you did, it seemed to leave you with more questions.The first was how could a being so graceful and so well-spoken that he was an inter-realm best seller be bested—repeatedly—by a QWERTY keyboard.The second, though, was why in all the realms had what you said been funny?--Reader is gender neutral.Octome 2020, Day 18: Non-Romanceable
Relationships: Simeon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader
Comments: 14
Kudos: 112





	Lots of Love

**(Y/N):** Hey, Simeon! I won’t be able to make it to

Purgatory Hall today after all. I’m not really

feeling too great.

 **(Y/N):** We can try to study next week instead?

 **Simeon:** Off courxe! LOL

It had been close to ten minutes you had been staring now, eyes raking over the last text Simeon had sent repeatedly. In fact, the only break you had given those three words was when you scrolled up to reread what _you_ had sent; and, each time you did, it seemed to leave you with more questions.

The first was how could a being so graceful and so well-spoken that he was an inter-realm best seller be bested— _repeatedly—_ by a QWERTY keyboard.

The second, though, was why in all the realms had what you said _been funny_?

The _“LOL”_ seemed to jump off the screen each time you spied it, peppering your heart with some emotional shrapnel each time. Was it a typo? Well, if it was, you _really_ had no clue what the angel had been trying to relay. Was it maybe a mortal’s penchant for sickness? Not that you had outright _asked_ , but you had noticed that the Devildom did not sell an overabundance of medicines. If demons were mostly robust, you could hardly fathom angels being anything less themselves.

Not that you really were feeling physically ill…

With a sigh, you forcibly locked your D.D.D. and tossed it aside, collapsing back onto the mattress with enough exaggerated _“over it”_ attitude that you _almost_ believed it yourself. Still, your eyes seemed drawn to the red phone regardless, and you could already feel your fingers itching to head right back into the same confounded loop you had been stuck in.

 _This_ was why you had needed to back out of the study session at Purgatory Hall. Because despite everything you knew about angels and everything you knew about Simeon himself, you had caught the worst disease known to mankind: _feelings_.

But really, could you have ever managed to escape them?

Simeon was the most beautiful man you had ever seen, and not simply in a physical sense. His smiles were gentle and bright, leaving a gooey feeling in your stomach that not even sunlight would have been able to manage. His laughter was musical, his voice equally so; it had not taken long for you to start wondering what it would sound like when he sang, or if god thought Simeon’s prayers were the most beautiful thing he had ever heard.

And the way he looked out for Luke? For _you?_ It was like you could suddenly understand in totality the concept of a guardian angel.

However, these feelings had nowhere to go, and like a river stuck behind a dam, they had just pooled up inside. And now it felt like you were drowning.

 _That_ was why you did not wish to join him at his dorm to study; it would have been fine, perhaps, if Solomon or Luke were going to be there—both of them worked great for distractions and making sure the air around you never grew too uncomfortable. Still, Solomon was meeting up with Asmodeus for some sorcerer business, and Luke had mentioned earlier that he and Barbatos were going to be baking…

The last thing you wanted was for Simeon to _know_ how you felt. He would probably be embarrassed, or perhaps even ashamed of you.

“It’s just a stupid crush,” you grumbled to yourself as you nearly threw yourself onto your side, drawing the heavy comforter up over your shoulder to tuck against your chin. “Give it time, and you’ll get over it.”

You closed your eyes as you sighed, though you could already tell that sleep was going to take its sweet time in coming, thanks to the erratic patter of your heart.

\--

You blinked, trying to shake the bleary, half-drowsed feeling from your senses as the twinkling lights of your indoor tree came into focus overhead. Your whole body felt sluggish and heavy, the mark of a nap that perhaps had not been accomplished correctly. You groaned, moving stiff limbs to grope for your D.D.D. amongst the covers, squinting as the bright screen showcased the time.

It was almost dinnertime.

Not that you were in any way hungry.

Beyond your door, you could hear voices drifting from the hall; it was not something that was rare, what with the number of demons you shared your living space with, so you were quick to turn over and settle back into your pillow. However, when a familiar yet unusual voice seemed to float beyond the din, you found yourself frozen instead.

“Whaddya mean, they’re sick?” Mammon asked, his voice pitched in a way that came from surprise and a tinge of jealousy. “If they were sick I woulda known about it. I’m their first, ya know.”

“I mean precisely that,” an elegant, sweeping voice answered in response. Your blood went cold, and your heart skipped a few beats in surprise. “They texted me after class that we would need to postpone our study session.”

Simeon?

What was _he_ doing here?

“Fine. Let’s say they’re sick. If they didn’t want to see ya, then why’re ya here?” Mammon grunted. You could almost visualize the way his arms were likely crossed, and the frown that would be knitting his brow.

There was a pause; perhaps Simeon did not know why he was there, though what was more likely was that he could not find the words. “I brought a soup from the Celestial Realm—it should help them feel better.”

“Tch,” Mammon scoffed. Still, the demon did not outright seek to throw the angel out. The awkward silence you could hear from your hiding spot on your bed was likely worse outside your door; it stretched on unbearably long even for you.

“…Are they in their room, then? I should get this to them before it gets too cold,” Simeon offered, his tone silken as ever.

Perhaps you should have been ready for the angel to come your way, but the sound of his footsteps reaching nearer—even heeled by Mammon and his various pleas of _‘wait, no ya don’t’_ —took you by surprise regardless.

The light rap at the door was as gentle as pretty much everything else about the angel, but your heart made its way into your throat anyway. “Little lamb? It’s me, Simeon. May I come in a moment?”

Your mind went blank, wondering what, precisely, was the right thing to say. Before your brain could settle on a course of action, though, your voice was already calling through the entry. “Sure. Come in.”

The golden knob twisted, and you watched the door swing open as if it were in slow motion. Simeon was there, lithe, tall, and bathed in the golden glow of the hallway. It was as if the House of Lamentation _wanted_ to remind you of his ethereal, holy blood; it was hard to look directly at him.

Much like the sun the Devildom did not have.

Your lips sought a smile, though you wondered how convincing it looked; the angel’s blue eyes, as clear as you imagined the Celestial Realm skies were, studied your face with that same intensity you had come to count as normal from him. “What brings you here?” You asked, voice a bit pitched through your general nerves.

“I thought you might need some soup,” the angel began, stepping inside and crossing over to the bedside with a stride that some might have considered weightless. “It’s a Celestial Realm recipe.”

“That’s sweet of you. Thank you,” you replied.

For a moment, the angel looked down at you, eyeing the somewhat flushed color of your face. You fought the urge to fidget, though proved less successful than you would have liked—particularly when the soup container was set upon the bedside table and Simeon took a seat upon the edge of your bed. You might have yelped in surprise, save for the fact you had never seen his face look so concerned.

“There’s something else. …Luke told me that LOL doesn’t mean ‘lots of love’,” Simeon offered, the contort of his fair lips making his expression balance somewhere between concern and embarrassment. “And I simply could not stand the thought of you feeling ill and thinking I was laughing at you.”

A heat was creeping up your cheeks, seeing the angel so out of sorts. It was different from the effortless perfection he usually sported, and your heart? With its feelings? Well, it seemed to like the sight. “Oh, Simeon, it’s all right—I sort of figured you weren’t laughing,” you tried to assuage, suddenly keenly aware of your flying pulse. As much as you wanted to stay with the angel, Simeon needed to _leave_. You were pretty sure someone as emotionally intelligent and observant as him would be able to read you like a book right now—and that merely made you _actually_ feel nauseated.

Simeon sighed, the sound hummed through his lips as his clear eyes peered upon your face. “…You really do look unwell, little lamb,” he murmured, fingers slowly reaching to brush your flushed cheek. The contact made you jolt, the small squeak in your throat both an embarrassment to all fully functional human beings and enough to make the angel’s cerulean eyes widen in surprise. “Oh! My apologies, I don’t know what came over me,” he muttered quickly, pulling his hand away.

You felt the loss of his warmth immediately, and it left a somewhat pronounced ache in your chest. “No, no! You didn’t do anything wrong, I was just surprised, is all—haha…ha…”

You thought the whole thing sounded strained, but apparently Simeon did not mind. In fact, he looked downright _relieved_. “I’m glad. I hope you know that I would never do anything to hurt you intentionally. You’re far too important to me.”

That quelled your awkward laughter, and instead brought your eyes to lock with his. You could not quite read anything in him—not the way you wanted—but a pinkish tinge was seeping over his dark skin the longer your eyes held fast together. “…The same goes for me, Simeon,” you almost whispered.

The pink tinge dove a bit darker, but the smile that curled his shapely lips was stunning. “I’m glad to hear it.” There was a beat of silence, and the whirl of a hundred questions seemed to float between you; still, not one of them found life, and after a moment Simeon stood from the bed. “I’m sorry, I won’t keep you. I hope you feel better soon.”

“Oh. Yes, thank you,” you answered.

“I will text you again,” Simeon chuckled. “Properly, this time.” There was something about the way he looked at you that made your stomach feel wobbly; you could find no words to reply, either. “I hope to see you tomorrow.”

“…So do I,” you managed. It was enough to make the angel’s face illuminate.

“Hmmm. I’m glad,” Simeon hummed, and with a sparkle in his eye he turned and moved back toward the hallway, shutting the door behind him as he went.

Slowly, your eyes fell upon the thermos of soup that he had left for you, cheeks beginning to cook redder in fluster. "...Lots of love, huh?" You murmured to none but your empty room.

Maybe—just _maybe_ —did Simeon like you, too?

**Author's Note:**

> I am running behind after a weekend camping trip kicked my butt! Hahaha. 
> 
> I am absolutely salty you cannot romance Simeon, so here is my contribution for Octome for the Non-Romanceable day. Like I could have used anyone else!
> 
> Enjoy!


End file.
